Musings
by SassyAngel05
Summary: Musings from all the characters during and after Fallout. I will be writing one for Jude, Brandon, Callie, Lena, Stef, Mariana and Jesus. Each one will have their own chapter.
1. Pity and Lies

Title: Musings

Author: SassyAngel

Rating: T

Disclaimer: Not mine, Fosters is owned by ABC Family

Summary: These are the musings of the main characters after the Fallout episode. I intend to write one for Lena, Stef, Brandon, Callie, Mariana, and Jesus, and of course, Jude, which is my first chapter.

**Musings**

**Pity and Lies**

I don't know why I lied to Connor. Usually, I'm pretty honest with others and myself. One minute, I was telling him the truth, something I always do. Then all of a sudden, I started telling him about my dad's beach house on an island, that had all my stuff and everything was rainbows, butterflies, and happiness. Even I knew it sounded ridiculous as I said it, but the more unrealistic it sounded, the more details I added, and before I knew it, it was a lie bigger than itself. Connor knew I was lying. I knew I was lying. I never expected him to call me on it. He just asked me out right why I was lying. How do you answer a question like that? How do you put the answer into a few simple words? So I just shrugged a little and said I didn't know

That was another lie. I do know. It was the pity he had in his eyes. He had it when those boys bullied me. He had it when he stood up with me by wearing the nail polish. He had it when he pointed out Jesus' belongings and then was informed that all I owned fit into a backpack. I saw it in his eyes when I told him my dad was in jail. So it just came out.

Callie has taught me to never accept pity from others. She's honestly taught me that I shouldn't accept much of anything from strangers. I'm supposed to depend on her, trust her, and rely on her and her alone. Never accept anything else from others especially pity. She despised it. She didn't want people to feel sorry for us. She always told me that we had each other and that was all that we needed, so no one should feel sorry for us. But let's face it; we've had a less than fabulous life. So I think that's what people naturally do when they realize what we've gone through. But like Callie, I didn't want Connor looking at me with pity. I wanted him to be my friend, not someone that he considered a pity project that needed fixing. And pity makes me feel like a project. I'm not a project. I realize my situations are not always great, but like I said before, it doesn't do any good to talk bad – about people or how life is in general. Life is what you make of what you have and nothing but your outlook will change it.

So I lied to him so he wouldn't pity me. I wanted him to like me. Just like every other pre-teen in the world, I just wanted to be accepted. But it didn't work. If anything, I think he felt even more sorry for me. Poor Jude: dead mom, criminal dad, bouncing around from foster home to foster home. The lies just made him pity me more.

But then he told me that I didn't need to lie to him. And the pity went out of his eyes and he acted like everything was normal. He started talking about video games that I had never heard of or played and his eyes had nothing but excitement as he reached into his backpack to give me the game to use. He seemed happy that I was happy to try it and it was almost like two friends hanging out on a Saturday, not a boy with a hero complex and his sympathy project. And for a second, I felt like a normal boy with normal friends and a somewhat normal family. Pity and lies do me no good. Normal is what I need.

Lena and Stef had pity in their eyes when I had asked them if Connor could come over. And when we came in to tell them that he was leaving, they both looked so desperate for me to have a friend. They were another couple of people who thought about poor, mistreated Jude. It's like they wanted a sign that I could readjust to my life here and become a normal child. A child that was smart, on grade level, with lots of friends. Someone like Brandon, probably. I'm not sure that would ever happen, but I could be normal for me. Connor was my first step to being that way. They said they would walk him out, but when I told them I could take care of it, they shared this warm look between one another, one that said, "he might just be okay" and the pitying, desperate look they had shared often enough between them was gone. Lena smiled and nodded encouragingly and I knew she was telling me that she knew I could do this, be an independent, happy person who wouldn't need anyone's pity any longer. So I turned to follow Connor out to the front hallway.

Connor gave me his game boy. He just handed it over like it was no big deal. Whatever, it's just a hundred dollar game system for you to keep. He had too much stuff anyway. He carried it around with him. It was obviously important to him, but he gave it to me like it was nothing. He smiled at me and told me he didn't need it and he knew I'd have fun with it. I held it in my hand with surprise. I scanned his face for that look I've seen so often before, "poor Jude doesn't have any thing to call his own, so he needs something so he won't be so pathetic", but it wasn't there. He grinned again and headed out the door, the grin showing regular, normal friendship. No strings attached. No charity. No pity. Just a friend giving a friend something to enjoy.

I think I probably stood in the hallway too long. It probably worried Stef and Lena that I would stand so still in the hallway alone. I just stood there, watching the door, processing what the game in my hand meant. I probably shouldn't have accepted the game. It was too expensive, and it was his parents that paid for it. He can't just give that stuff away. They'll find out and be angry. But he seemed so sure that I should have it that I did keep it. Something that would be mine. One more thing that I could call my stuff and keep in my backpack to travel on to my next home. When I used it, I would always think about my first real friend, the first person who didn't talk to me because they had to, the first person who stood up for me because he liked me, not just because he felt sorry for me. Lena came up behind me and hugged me. She questioned me about what I had, but I just shrugged and said, "Connor thought I would like it." And I smiled at her and finally went up the stairs, with her smiling and watching me go to the room that I shared with Jesus, a boy who treated me like a brother, in a house that treated me like a family. Pity and lies did no good. Friends and family do more for a person that pity and lies ever could.


	2. Unexpected

Title: Musings

Author: SassyAngel

Rating: T

Disclaimer: Not mine, ABC Family's

Summary: This one is Stef's musings.

**Musings**

**Unexpected**

I never pictured myself with five children. Truthfully, a lot of my life has turned out unexpectedly. I did what I was supposed to do at first, married the man that I met at the police academy and had one child. I didn't think I would have more than that. Between Mike and Brandon, I felt like I had two children already. But slowly, one by one, my life became more and more different. First, I divorced Mike. Then I found the love of my life in Lena. Before I knew it, we'd adopted two more children. And then, once again, she surprised me, as Lena is so apt to do, by bringing in another child – but this one so much more damaged than any of our other children. Then came the next unexpected turn in my life, in that poor, sweet child Jude, including the way he was brought to me with abusive foster fathers and my son having a gun pointed at his head. And here I was, with five children. It's true, Jude and Callie weren't ours officially, but they were in our hearts, just as Lena and I were married in our hearts. Life just keeps on throwing the unexpected.

The last few days have been proof of that. It felt like one unexpected thing after another. First, my twins, the loves who never truly fought, who did nothing but love, protect and bicker with one another, fought with each other like their lives depended on it. Now, Jesus has every right to be angry. Mariana really put herself in a terrible position by drinking underage and then blabbing Lexi and Jesus' secrets to Lexi's parents. She put us all in a bad position with that move. But I don't know how much I can take of the two of them arguing. It broke my heart to hear them argue in a way that sounded like there was no love left between them, even if we all knew, deep down it was still there.

My decision to help Jesus and Lexi has put Lena's job at stake, since Mariana felt the drunken need to share it with the world. I truly have felt like I did the right thing giving Lexi the morning after pill. Do any of us want our children having sex at 15? No. Of course not. But it was too late because it was done. Do any of us want our children to become a parent unexpectedly at the age of 15? No. So I stopped that from happening. Now, perhaps, I went about it the wrong way. I never intended to endanger Lena's job. That's why I gave Lexi the pill in the first place. So Lena wouldn't have to be considered responsible for doing this. But since Mariana couldn't keep her jealousy in check, we're all in trouble for this now. I understand where the Riveras are coming from. They are furious that it happened, furious that they were kept in the dark. I would be furious if I was left out of these decisions. But when you don't keep an open relationship with your children, and you come across as judge, jury, and executioner, children won't tell you things they are afraid to share. I know Jesus tried to keep it a secret, but I think it was more for Lexi than from fear of telling us. I know he considers the topic of sex awkward with us – which is proof positive he is too young to be having it, but I think he would have come clean if Lexi hadn't been so terrified. So he tried to take responsibility for his actions and fix things for her. And I had to help him. I needed our son to know that he can come to us when he needs us.

The Riveras' reaction showed exactly why Lexi was so afraid to tell her parents. They over-reacted. Pulling Lexi out of school, intending to send her away, was more than over-the-top. It's no wonder Lexi felt that she had to escape from them. But it was dangerous. No one could have expected Lexi to run away. She could have been anywhere, hurt and in danger. I was more than shocked to find the Riveras at our door and I can only imagine how much arguing it took to get them both to our door to ask for help. I'm pretty sure we were the last people they wanted to ask for help. They blame us for all that has transpired between Lexi and Jesus. They probably blame us for them planning to send Lexi away. And now that I know they are illegals, I know coming to a cop made it seem even more upsetting. But their fear and terror for their daughter made them come to the one place they knew she might come. They certainly didn't think this situation would occur. I doubt they thought any of this would happen. I will never doubt how much they love their daughter, even if I disagree with some of the things they have decided to do as punishment for Lexi's actions. Lexi is not actually my child, even if it feels like she is, and I certainly have no right in deciding her punishments.

When Jesus, Mariana, and Lexi came in together, for a moment, it felt like they were 9 again, coming in from playing together all day. It was like everything was forgotten for one moment, everyone was friends, everyone was safe, and everyone was relieved. Then Lexi basically blackmailed her parents into staying. Not my business, but I'm fairly certain I've never done anything to make my children want to blackmail me. Maybe I'm not so bad at having five children after all. The Riveras left without much fuss and they left with very few words. Jesus and Mariana were left together in a room, and for the first time in a week, they were quiet. They didn't argue, they didn't yell, they didn't even glare. In fact, I believe I saw Jesus squeeze Mariana's hand. I was beginning to wonder if they would ever make up, but obviously, Lexi's running away repaired many of the problems in their lives. Jesus, Lexi, and Mariana seemed to be talking again. Lexi was apparently staying here and staying at Anchor Beach, and I imagine now that we know what we do about the Riveras, they won't be going to the school board about the morning after pill. I would never condone a child running away, but the results turned out well this time. I couldn't ask for more.

I lay on the couch with Lena, a glass of wine in my hands. My babies were okay again. Jesus and Mariana had repaired their relationship. Jude, the poor, sweet, pitiful child had made a friend apparently. I don't know how anyone could hurt that child. He's so polite, so kind. I have never heard him complain. I have only heard sweetness from his mouth. He helps around the house, he works hard on his schoolwork, and he is so observant. He has so much inside of him that needs to come out. He pays so much attention to everyone around him, that it was time someone pays attention to him. Of course, I never spend as much time with him as I wish I could. Between the job, Lena, and four other children, he only gets a part of my time. But I hope he also knows he is safe here. His eyes were so bright while that boy was here. It was the happiest I have ever seen him. He was working on a school project and he seemed positively excited and hopeful. Jude is such a special kid. I hope I can make him see that. It was so unexpected to see him look like such a normal child, that I hope it will stick around.

Maybe things will calm down now. All five of my children were all right. Now if I just knew where Brandon and Callie were, I could sigh in relief and go to sleep without moving until the morning. But then Brandon and Callie came in the room, the tension so obvious. Callie's face was broken. I don't know how else to describe it. I've seen her upset. I've seen her callous. I've seen her angry. I've even seen moments of her happy, particularly when she had a guitar in her hand. But I've never seen her so completely broken. Brandon was positively stoic. Another first for him. One of the things I love about my beautiful son is that I can read him like a book. He's so expressive at all times that I can tell exactly what he's thinking. That's why I've been worried about him and Callie in the first place. He's positively enamored with her and I only fear for how things will turn out between the two of them. Callie, at least, keeps him at arms' length. However, this was obviously something so much bigger than my fears for the two of them.

Lena and I could both feel the mood of the two. We sat up immediately, bracing ourselves for the next disaster. Apparently five children brought nothing but continual disasters. I wouldn't trade that for anything. We watched them closely and waited. I wanted Callie to know we were ready to listen to whatever it was she had to tell them. She wanted Brandon to stay, even though they didn't touch, it was like she was clinging to him like he was a lifeline. He stood slightly behind her in the chair, his hands hanging to his side; his shoulders drooped with the pain of whatever it was about to happen. It seemed like he was holding her without actually doing it. I've never seen anything like it. He was giving her comfort without touch, without words, and she seemed to be soaking it up without even looking at him. She looked down at her hands and began her story.

As a policewoman, I've heard many of these stories. Often, in reports of rape, if there is a woman cop around, we'll be the ones to listen to it. It seems to calm the girls down talking to another woman. I've heard of rape, abuse, pain, but never when it was my own daughter speaking. I could see a younger Callie, somewhat hardened, being taken advantage of by a much older boy. I could see how she would be afraid to tell, afraid no one would listen. Callie's life has been full of unexpected twists and turns and I can't think of a single one that would be considered a good turn. The parents had jumped to conclusions when they had found her with that boy, and kicked them out of the house, after her innocence had been taken from her. And the fact that he was back, terrorizing her, while repeating his pattern with the newest foster girl was agonizing. I wanted to take my gun and go find him right now.

Of course, I couldn't. I knew that cooler heads must prevail. So instead, I listened to Callie's story, fists clenched, jaw tight, refusing to speak. I didn't want to say anything that might traumatize Callie further. She obviously needed to get this out. I can't believe she hasn't told anyone for two years. To keep something like this inside must have felt like fire and ice fighting for control in her heart and stomach. No wonder she was so bitter and angry all the time.

Brandon sat on the armrest of the chair as the story continued. Callie's body leaned towards his unintentionally, and the space between them was almost non-existent. I was glad that Callie felt Brandon would keep her safe. Even if I worried that something might happen between them, it was obvious that the only reason we were even hearing this story was because she had opened up to Brandon. And as long as this comfort thing continued with no touching, I couldn't argue with it. I felt Lena shuddering next to me and I knew it was from tears. She was so kind-hearted, she took others pain as her own. That's why she kept bringing home the stray children to us. I reached for her hand, finally unclenching my fist, and waited for the story to end. My mind started processing what we would do next. We'd tell Bill. We would ensure that she could stay here despite the other flags that would be put in her file. Between this and her juvenile records, it was unlikely anyone would want to adopt her. She and Jude could not be separated. She and Jude would stay with us. Maybe we would even adopt them. If this would stop them from getting a permanent home, so be it. We would become that. This had to be reported. It had to stop. I could never do anything to make Callie regret coming clean to us. We'd file a police report tomorrow. And Mike and I will go arrest this bastard and put him away for quite some time.

But until then, we will hug Callie and love her. We will allow her to cry and feel all the feelings she's been afraid of. And when she's ready, she can go upstairs, to her bedroom, knowing that she is safe in this home, safe with me, Lena, Brandon, safe with Jesus and Mariana, that Jude is safe here and she will never have to worry about these horrible unexpected life issues again as long as she lived in this house and if she did, we would be there to help her with them.

I never thought I would have five children. I never imagined all of the differences in personality, the insanity of daily life they would bring. I never expected my life to be turned upside down by one woman and five children. But there is not a single hour of the day I would trade.


	3. Bad News and Anger

Title: Musings

Author: SassyAngel05

Rating: T

Disclaimer: The Fosters is not mine, it's ABC Family's.

Summary: Lena's thoughts on the Fallout

**Musings**

**Bad News and Anger**

Bad news is kind of a funny thing. Once one bit comes, it seems to just pile up into a mountain that seems I'll never get to the other side of. We've just had our mountain of bad news the last few weeks. Jesus and Lexi had unprotected sex. Stef gave Lexi the pill without my consent. Mariana has become an underage drinker who blurts out other people's secrets that results in my son being angry and his girlfriend being shipped away to another state thus causing her to run away. Let's not forget the fact that this was going to cause me to lose my job if the Riveras took it to the board. Callie has been raped and has been trying to deal with it alone for the last two years, carrying the pain and guilt and horror with her every day. Bad news has a way of smothering my life at times and taking over every waking moment. I don't know how we will ever get over all that has happened these last few days. But we are the Fosters, and together, we can move past anything. At least that's my genuine hope.

I've been feeling angry lately. This is unusual for me. I know that anger is of very little use to anyone. I am generally open with my feelings. I'm not one to hide them. I feel the range of most everything: love, despair, protectiveness, irritation, hope, annoyance, and humor. Anger is just something I have no need for. But with the way things have been going, I am beginning to feel anger in the pit of my stomach that never seems to go away. I tried to hide it, only showing my usual emotions, but it was there and I could feel it.

I've been angry with Jesus for being so careless. Of course I didn't want my son having sex at the age of 15, but we have talked openly about sex. We have provided them with methods to be safe if they so choose to have sex. I'm not unrealistic in what I believe children do. I have a degree in child development. I work at a high school. I know what children are doing, whether I agree with it or not. This is why Stef and I always tried to be so open about it. But Jesus gave in to his urges without any thought but an afterthought. My foolish boy acted impulsively, like he so often does, and we were left to clean up his mess.

At least it was a mess we were supposed to clean up together, but it turned into a mess that Stef cleaned up without my consent. So my anger builds, adding Stef to the list of those to be angry with. She may have done what she thought she should, but she didn't think of the consequences that would come back on me. I have only ever wanted to help children. My entire life was about learning about children, the way they think, understanding why they do what they do, how to help them work through issues big and small. Now it's being threatened by Jesus' mistake, Lexi's mistake, Stef's mistake. I might get fired for something they did, something I didn't stop because I had the silly illusion that I could trust my partner to wait until we'd made a decision together. I understand Stef thought she was helping by not telling me until after it was done, but it didn't help. I'm still culpable. Once the Riveras report the emergency contraceptive, the board could look at other things I've done. They could realize that I changed the test results on Jude's entrance exam. That would get me fired as well, and it would get Jude kicked out of the school, a place that he was finally making friends and felt more secure. So another person to add to my list. Myself. I am not sorry that I changed the test because I truly believe that was the best thing for Jude, but I don't want him to find out. That would crush him. And I am the one that put us in this position.

I'm angry with Mariana. She's been so self-absorbed lately, that she has gone out of her way to hurt others. She's so irresponsible. We've talked about the dangers of underage drinking, but she went out and did it anyway. Then she spilled to Lexi's parents about Jesus and Lexi's sex life, which is what put the rest of these issues into motion. I have tried my best for Mariana, tried to understand her, to talk with her and help her move past her feelings of abandonment caused by her mother. But there comes a point where she needs to take responsibility for her actions, and she's not there yet. Listening to her and Jesus argue shows that she's not willing to accept her part in all of the problems the family is going through. She was hurt that Jesus and Lexi kept their relationship a secret, but she's acting as if that compares to what she has done. If she'd take a step back and see how she was acting, she might just see why Lexi and Jesus didn't want to tell her about their relationship in the first place. But my silly, selfish girl can't see it and spends her time explaining why she isn't wrong which only results in adding to my anger.

Finding the Riveras on our doorstep Saturday morning was more than surprising. They had felt so angry towards us, as if we condoned what happened between Jesus and Lexi. It must have taken a lot of swallowed pride to bring us the bad news that their daughter had fled their house without a word, from fear of the punishment they had doled out for her indiscretions. Then, when they finally admitted they were illegal immigrants, it showed just how much they would give up to find their daughter and keep her safe. Bad news has a way of bringing out the strongest part inside of us. Sometimes, it will make us want to curl up in a ball and never face the world again, but in reality, it makes us steel ourselves for what might come and prepare us for what must be done. This is the way the Riveras have taken it. She hasn't forgiven me. She wouldn't even allow a comforting touch from me, the woman she blamed for driving a wedge between herself and her daughter, even if in reality, it was her own behavior that drove that wedge. But she stayed seated at my table, calling phone numbers from my contact list, showing that while she didn't forgive, she would do what needed to be done. She is a woman filled with anger, not anger that sits in the pit of the stomach, boiling, roiling at a low simmer, waiting to explode. She had the type of anger that was obvious, rolling off of her in waves, something she didn't feel she should hide. She was righteous in her anger. I wish sometimes I could feel that way, let the others know that I am outright angry with them, not just forgiving, slightly upset Mama, not just slightly unreasonable, short-sighted Lena. I wanted them to know I was angry the way Mrs. Riveras was angry. But I would never tell them. Because anger, in the long run, was a useless emotion and I knew it.

I was angry with all three of the teenagers when they came in the door. Lexi with the gall to run away and blackmail her parents into getting what she wanted, Jesus and Mariana thought they had the right to help hide her just to get the outcome they wanted. I didn't realize I had raised such selfish children. I know they felt they were standing by one another, but the results of this could have been disastrous. Lexi could have been injured. The Riveras could have been deported if immigration caught wind of their undocumented status. All of this over so many misunderstandings. Luckily, they had enough sense to bring her home before the Riveras went to the actual police and not just Stef. I have tried to do everything right while raising my children. I tried to keep lines of open communication, keep a sense of non-judgment when problems were brought to me (even if I did in my mind), use a background of solid theories in how the children should be brought up, spoken with, and raised. But none of it seemed to matter. My children were just as entitled and crazy as everyone else's children. Maybe that's all that being a teenager really was, a sense of entitlement and insanity that no amount of parenting or non-parenting could change.

There was one child in this house I knew I was not angry at, though I was angry at the situations he'd been put in. From the moment I saw poor Jude in his foster father's house, shaking and terrified while the man waved his gun around, I was angry. That truly is where my anger started. I didn't know Jude, but I knew that no child deserved to be treated that way. And getting to know him made my fury deepen. He was so sweet and kind. He never caused problems. He was helpful and wanted so desperately to be himself and have friends who accepted him for that. Every pre-teen wants that, but he especially craved it. He'd never had such open acceptance before, not even from Callie, because she was always trying to protect him by stopping him from being who he was. But being in this crazy house seemed to be good for him. He was starting to be who he wanted to be. His smile when Connor was here was wonderful. It was inspiring. He just stood in the hallway after Connor left with this look of awe-inspired bliss on his face. I've never seen anyone so content from an afternoon working on a school project. I didn't foresee anything but love for that child, but the fury I felt towards the people in Jude's life previously settled deep in my heart. He'd been so mistreated that it took him so long to even find an ounce of happiness in the world around him. He's 12. His life should have been filled with happiness.

I sat on the couch, ready to relax, glass of wine in my hand. I wanted a moment to decompress, to consider all the events of the day, perhaps stew in my anger a bit and find a way to start letting some of it go. I wanted to find a way to become the outwardly calm, cautiously thoughtful Lena that I let everyone else see. I wanted to feel that way, not the way I have been keeping hidden inside. But as I said, bad news liked to see if it could top the last set of bad news, and Brandon and Callie brought in the real bad news.

Callie is someone that I admire, though I don't always agree with her choices. She's such a strong girl. She's been through more than Jude, and she keeps herself in this singularly focused world that revolved around her brother. I hope to help her see that there is more in the world than keeping Jude safe, but I haven't quite made it there. She has these moments where she's ready to open up, and the next she's closed off and it seems Brandon is the only one to reach her. Just like right now. She's ready to open up, but it's obvious that Brandon already knows whatever she's about to tell us. He's reached her in that way that honest, open, easy-to-read Brandon can. I think maybe it's because she knows his motives. Brandon's always been easy to read, to most everyone. She probably never has to question what Brandon is thinking or what he wants, the way she does everyone else. She knows that what she sees with Brandon is what she'll get. He's got this calm, relaxed, non-judgmental thing going that even I can't quite master. She wanted him to stay. She sat and he stood and we leaned forward. I couldn't imagine what she had to say, but I had the feeling that it wasn't going to be something that helped me release some anger.

She started her story and I knew where it was going. I couldn't even imagine how Callie felt. Callie was putting herself in such a vulnerable position right now. She knew the consequences of telling us. We would have to report it, to the police, to DHS. She knew what could happen if we knew. But Callie was putting this new foster girl first, so she wouldn't be so horribly violated the way Callie had been by Liam. She deserved so much more than what had happened to her. The anger started boiling over in my heart, this time at Liam, a man I didn't know. Tears started flowing out of my eyes, furious tears full of heartbreak for this 16-year-old girl who had already lived a life most people would never see, even by old age. She'd shouldered this on her own, kept it a secret, while she was thrown out like trash again, with her brother, and she was stuck in one abusive situation after another. I felt Stef hold my hand and I knew what she was thinking. Softhearted Lena can't hear about the hard things in life. She didn't know that this was me releasing all the anger I had felt for so long. It had reached a boiling point and instead of an explosion, it was a waterfall. Callie was crying. Stef looked like she would be ready to kill someone. I was almost reaching hysterical from all the stress. And there was Brandon, with no emotion on his face at all, just sitting on the armrest, waiting for the story to be over, unsure of what to do with all these emotional women in the room. We were a complete mess, our family. It seemed like we were in this mountain of bad news that kept snowing on us in an avalanche that was burying us under.

Callie was ready to escape from us, having shared all that she could possibly share for one night. She probably wanted to run away and never look back now that we knew the truth. She had finally opened up in a way to let some of her anger out, and in doing that, she helped me release some of my own. Crying has that cathartic affect. Maybe once we all had a chance to process, we could start to heal in this house. Jesus and Mariana were obviously on the way to making up. Jude was making friends. Stef and I would find a way to help each other through all of this and help the children. Brandon would learn to process a world that he never once imagined. Callie would see that letting people in wouldn't always result in tragic heartbreak.

Here's the thing about bad news. With a family, after everything in the world goes wrong, the rest can only go one direction.


	4. Fear and Loathing

Title: Musings

Author: SassyAngel

Rating: T

Disclaimer: The Fosters is owned by ABC Family.

Summary: Callie's musings on the recent events.

**Musings**

**Fear and Loathing**

I sat in the bathtub, like I did my first night at the Fosters. I pulled my knees to my chest, I leaned my head against my knees, and I stared at the turtle sticker stuck to the tile of the bathroom wall. The house was quiet now. The house was so rarely quiet. It seemed that everyone was emotionally drained after the day that had happened. Mariana and Jesus were in his bedroom. Jude was already asleep. Stef and Lena were probably discussing the bomb I just dropped on them. And Brandon was sitting in the doorjamb of his bedroom, standing a somewhat silent vigil over my fragile progress after the day we had.

I sat in the hot water, wishing once again I could rinse the fear and loathing off of my skin. How many times had I tried to scrub myself clean with scalding hot water, soap, body wash, anything I could get my hands on? Somehow, though, fear, loathing, and regret never washed away, no matter what was used. I poured the water over my arms, feeling it drip away, and I considered what exactly had happened today. I could scarcely believe it has happened. I've actually told people what happened two years ago. I told the group, I told Sarah, I told Brandon, I told the moms. I never thought I would tell anyone ever. I've been so afraid for so long that it seemed almost surreal that people knew. Tomorrow, more people would know. And for a little bit today, I let the fear go. I confessed and I didn't spontaneously combust. I confessed and Liam didn't kill me (at least he hasn't yet). I confessed and Brandon still looks at me like I'm the eighth wonder of the world, Stef still looks at me like I'm worth more than I think, Lena still looks at me like I'm on the way to healing and repair. For a few minutes today, I didn't regret telling people.

Sarah was not safe at that house. I could see her innocence and trust in this family that she thought she had been delivered. I remember Jude and I feeling the same way when we arrived at that house. The special things Liam does for her, the very same things he did for me, made her feel like she was the most important thing in the world. But I know that what will happen next will make her shudder in fear and spend the rest of her life with a particular type of loathing that never goes away. I want to save her from that. Save her from having her first time being violent and painful and something that breaks her trust in humanity forever. Seeing her at group, seeing Liam's reactions to me and my being around Sarah proved that I had to do something. I couldn't put it off any longer. I couldn't pretend that it didn't happen to the rest of the world and secretly think about it as I pretended to sleep in whatever bed I was in the last two years of my life.

I spent so much time loathing myself for allowing this to happen. I obviously had led Liam on. I broke the rules about foster siblings. He had been so nice to me, and then I was obviously nothing but a tease. I deserved what I got. And because of my idiotic choices, I got Jude kicked out into places that were so much worse for him, for both of us. I loathed everything about myself after Liam forced me. It was there, in the back of my mind, when I was quiet, when I was loud, when I was awake, in my nightmares. I felt nothing but loathing. And when the loathing was a step back, the fear came in to take over. Fear that the foster system would find out. If they found out, they would separate Jude and me. I had fear that Liam would find me wherever I was staying and do it again. Or kill me so I wouldn't talk. Or beat me or hurt Jude to stop me from telling. He didn't know that the foster system made it impossible for me to tell (at least until I knew that Jude was somewhere safe). I was full of fear and loathing and it was just an alternating emotion, back and forth.

I won't lie. I still have those feelings, but for some reason the Fosters' place allows for a few other emotions. Every so often I feel relief and hope (mostly for Jude). Every so often I wonder if I am finally safe. Tonight, for a second, I feel safe. Brandon standing guard down the hall, Lena and Stef standing guard downstairs, Mariana standing guard in our bedroom, Jesus standing guard over Jude. Even Wyatt is probably standing guard from wherever he is, watching my online profiles for any sign that I'm being threatened like he did before, even though he's angry with me for telling him to stay out of it. He won't stay out of it. He hasn't left me alone yet. I feel like Liam can't get to me for the first time in two years. I know this feeling won't last. I can't take it for granted. Maybe I'll actually sleep for an entire night tonight.

Of course, once I have to tell my story again, over and over, to the police, to Bill, to others, things will go back to fear and loathing. I will probably stop feeling like it wasn't my fault for what happened. As they put marks in my records for doing this, tell me it's really too late to prove that anything happened for the police to do anything, for making me relive every moment and have Liam find out I finally snitched and have him come after me, finally, like I have been dreading for years, my peace will be gone. I can go back to fearing that I will be separated from Jude, even though it helps to know he'll be some place safe without me. Maybe I will be lucky. Maybe Stef and Lena will fight to keep me and they'll let me stay until I turn 18. But let's be honest, luck has never really been on my side.

The water was getting cold. I must have been in here for a long time. I'm surprised no one has knocked yet. I got out, dried off, shivering a little bit. I wrapped myself in an old robe of Mariana's and stared at myself in the mirror. My eyes were hollow with shadows coloring underneath them. I looked tired. My hair hung around my face. I had pale skin, not my usual pale, but almost ill pale. I rubbed at the mirror and turned. Apparently coming clean did not help my appearance. It made me look haggard. It certainly made me feel haggard.

I emerged from the bathroom and saw Brandon still at his post. Our eyes met and I could see his gears turning in his head. I stood in the bathroom doorway and he sat in his bedroom doorway. We stared at one another, mute, but I could see that while he still respected me, he saw me differently. Not in a negative light, just in a different light. Today would make them all see me differently to a degree. And I saw them in a different light. We didn't speak. I just nodded to him. He gave me that half smile of his and I turned and walked into my shared room with Mariana. She wasn't in there at the moment, so I would have a few more moments of peace. I pulled on some pajamas and lay down on to the bed. I picked up my phone and typed a simple message. Thanks. I tossed the phone on the nightstand and turned on my side.

I hoped for sleep. A dreamless sleep. I only have a few more hours to keep the fear and loathing at bay.


	5. Puzzle Pieces

Title: Musings

Author: SassyAngel

Rating: T

Disclaimer: ABC Family owns the Fosters.

Summary: Brandon's musings of the last few days.

Musings

**Puzzle Pieces**

When I was younger, aside from family game night, we would put jigsaw puzzles together. We got to the point that we would put together these huge 5000 piece puzzles, the five of us, that would take up the whole dining room table. We did it with a method: corner pieces, the frame, and then the inside picture. Of course, if we found pieces of the inside picture that fit, we clicked them together before we needed them to complete the puzzle. I feel like our whole life is like that 5000 piece jigsaw puzzle. Mom and Lena are the corner pieces, and Jesus, Mariana and I are the edge pieces that go to make the frame, wrapped in between our corner piece parents. When Callie and Jude came, they also became pieces of the frame – snap, snap. The picture that we make as a family, on the inside, is pieces of our life. Mom and dad divorce – click. Mom and Lena bring home the twins – click. Jesus learns to skateboard – click. Mariana wears something besides a princess dress – click. I learn to play the piano- click. Family vacation, anniversaries, birthdays – click, click, click. First day of school, first day of high school – click, click. Our family picture, while they had some dark places, was a bright and happy puzzle center, however unfinished it was. But then we added Callie and Jude and the colors of our picture started to change. Have a gun waved in my face while saving Jude from an abusive home – click. Seeing Callie beaten and bruised – click. Dancing with Callie at the quinceanera – click. Picking Callie up and confessing my feelings to be rejected –click. Callie being terrorized by her ex-foster brother rapist – click. The picture has changed so drastically with the Jacobs in the house. We had puzzle pieces of black, dark and stormy, mixing in with the blues and pinks and yellows and greens that made up the puzzle of our family.

Our family was not perfect before Callie and Jude. We had our own problems, we still do. But I've never experienced things that I have now that I know Callie. I've never even imagined some of things that I do now that I've been exposed to Callie. I never branched out from my piano, from my family, into a world that was dark and violent, a place that no one went by choice. Callie certainly hadn't. She'd been thrown into the foster care system without any option. And she paid for that everyday.

I sat in the doorway of my bedroom while Callie was in the shower, my back leaning against the door frame, my feet stretching out to the other side of the frame. After what I learned today, I would make sure that she would be okay. I'm the one that convinced her to try to stop Liam and Sarah from happening by coming forward, before I even knew what had truly happened. I only saw a little of the picture when had been done – a boy who was a little too old dating someone a little too young, something that was obviously a pattern for him. Now that I knew everything, I would be responsible for her mental well-being. I wanted to make sure she didn't regret telling any of us. Even though she'd rejected me, she still needed me. I knew why she'd rejected me now. It was so much more than just being involved with a foster brother. It was what had happened because she'd danced around the foster sibling dating rule once before. That even though I know Callie was comfortable with me and knew I would never do what Liam did; she didn't want to play with fire. Callie was kicked out for being raped last time, forced to keep silent so she wouldn't be taken away from Jude, and took the blame for what had happened when she didn't deserve any of it.

The house was silent. I could hear the water dripping in the bathtub, but everything else was quiet. I know that telling my moms was the right thing for Callie to do. She's so strong, so beautiful in her pain. She's a warrior at the heart of it. She has never let anything stop her. Every time she confesses something about her life like bashing in the foster father's car to stop him from beating her little brother or being thrown out of a house, she says it so matter of factly, like what happened was just another every day occurrence. I guess for her, it was. She said it almost as if it happened to someone else, like she was just reading a piece from a horror novel. Today was the first time I've seen her talk about something that made her cry, something that wasn't just another story. She'd started that way, telling me who Liam was and that he was doing it to another foster girl like it was a far-removed snippet of someone else's life. But when she told me that Liam forced her, it was the first time the blank, objective Callie disappeared and a slightly hysterical one took her place. I don't blame her. It sounds like she'd been keeping herself separated from it so long, that confessing it probably finally made it real. She'd never told anyone what had happened. I don't know how Callie can live like that, moving on without anything really being resolved. It broke my heart to listen to her keep saying, "it wasn't my fault" like this was news to her. She just kept saying it, like she was convincing herself of the truth of her words. I could have told her that instantly. I could have told her that even dating Liam wasn't her fault, that he took advantage of her as he was an adult and she was still a child. I could have told her that no one deserves to be forced into having sex, no matter what has happened previously, and that Liam is a sick asshole that needs to be put in jail for the rest of his life. But I didn't, because my words wouldn't mean anything. She needed to believe it of herself. If the mantra of it's not my fault will help that, then she can say it as many times as she wants. Strong, beautiful Callie was just a little bit broken now.

When she told my moms, she cried, but her voice was that far-removed voice again. I guess once she told me and had actually acknowledged that she was hurt, broken, and angry about what had been done to her, her virginity stolen from her, she detached herself once again as she had retold the story. My moms responded just as I thought they would, hugging her, murmuring regrets, sadness, and outrage. Lena cried, my mom looked murderous, and I knew that they would report it. I knew in my heart that Callie would not be sent away from this house, that they would fight for her if DHS tried to send her to a group home like Callie feared. I knew they would win. I knew that Liam would pay for what he had done and I wanted that most of all. I wish Callie could be just as sure of all this as I was. I just hope that Callie feels the love the moms have for her, the care and safety this family will provide for her and her brother. I hope that she knows that nothing she has said changes the way we feel about her. I hope she knows that she's not alone anymore, that she doesn't have to detach herself from life, that she is a part of the puzzle that is our family.

I realize that I have been lucky. I have had a family that supports me. I have always known my whole life that if something went wrong, I could go to my mom. I could go to Lena. I could even go to my dad. I always knew that if I screwed up, I would be loved. I always knew that if the world was out to get me, the mama bear instincts would kick in my moms and they would protect me and fix it for me. I can't imagine what it would be to not have that. Callie's never had any of it. Jude's never had any of it. I don't know how they've been able to survive this long, even though they had each other. I never realized how fortunate I was until I met her.

She came out of the bathroom, her hair wet, her body wrapped in an old robe of Mariana's. She stopped when she saw me and we stared at one another. She looked exhausted and drained and I wonder if the rest of the family looks like that. She must wonder what will happen now. She must wonder if we will treat her differently, see her differently. It's not that I don't see her differently. I do. But that doesn't have to be a bad thing. Things are different now that I know what happened. I understand her a little bit more than I did before. I know a little bit more of where her hurt came from, where her attitude came from. I know now that when I try to strengthen our relationship, it will have to be a slow, gradual process like taming a skittish horse. I know that she trusts me because if she didn't, I would never know what I know. I know that she depends on me, something I never expected. And I know that I love her, despite what has happened to her, maybe even because of what has happened to her. She is a wonder to me and I will wait until she figures that out and can accept it.

We didn't speak. We looked at one another and then Callie disappeared into her bedroom. I stayed where I was for a few minutes, considering what to do next. Finally, I stood, walked into my room but left the door open just in case. I sat at my piano and ran my hand over my keys. I didn't know what to play, didn't know how to get my mind away from Callie.

My phone lit up. I saw Callie's name. All it said was "Thanks."

I smiled and pushed away from my keyboard. There was another puzzle piece clicked into our picture.

Callie and Jude brought some darkness into our puzzle. They changed the outlook of the picture, the mix of colors. But maybe, just maybe, we would change the color and outlook of the picture of their puzzle. Now that we've put our pieces together, we could have a more complete puzzle.


	6. Selfish

Title: Musings

Author: SassyAngel

Rating: T

Disclaimer: ABC Family owns The Fosters.

Summary: This is Mariana's musings on her behavior.

**Musings**

**Selfish**

I know everyone thinks I'm selfish. They think I always have to get my way, always have to be right, always have to do what I want. Who doesn't like that? Maybe they're right. I am selfish. But why wouldn't I be? I have learned that I have to hold on to what I can get, hold on to the moments that allow me to be the center of attention, hold on to the people in my life because if I don't they will disappear, just like my father and mother did.

I have always held onto Jesus with a death grip. He's been there through everything. Jesus was next to me during our life with our junkie birth mom. He was there when we went to different foster homes. And he's been there the whole time after we were adopted, making sure I was safe, happy, protected. He took the blame for so many things I've done, he would do things to distract others when I needed covering for. He has been my everything and I guess I'm not Jesus' everything, not anymore. Maybe it's selfish of me to want to be, but I don't know how to deal with the changes, me taking back burner to Jesus' devotion to Lexi.

I've done the same with Lexi. I latched onto her the day she didn't laugh at me for ripping my princess dress on the playground and haven't let go since. She was my best friend, my confidante, practically my sister. We've been inseparable for most of my life, with Jesus tagging along sometimes. It seems like most of my life, I either had Jesus or Lexi by my side. They might have co-mingled on occasion, our whole family co-mingled with Lexi. But I never imagined that one day, I would become less important to Lexi and Jesus and they would be come each other's main attraction. How did that leave me? Alone. Neither one of them needed me anymore and I needed them more than anything. I couldn't stand that I wasn't needed anymore, wanted anymore. I couldn't stand to be replaced. I've been abandoned and replaced my whole life. How could they do that without a thought to me?

I'm not jealous, exactly. I know Lexi thinks I feel this way just because I don't have a boyfriend. Not that she ever asked me how I felt about her dating my brother. She thinks that I just wanted to be the first one to have a boyfriend, the first one to grow up. She doesn't get that it has nothing to do with that. I don't care that she has a boyfriend. I just don't understand why she had to take my brother away from me. And why my brother had to take my best friend away from me. Why couldn't Jesus date someone else? Why did they think we needed to break up our perfect little family?

I know Jesus thinks I'm selfish. He's said that in so many different ways lately. I don't know how he's not more traumatized by being abandoned by our mother. I don't understand how he can't see where I'm coming from, that I'm not selfish, I'm just afraid of losing him. What will happen if Jesus moves on with his life and I'm not a big part of it when he's so much of my life? I know I'm whiny and dependent sometimes, but Jesus has always been such a damn good brother that I think he's made me that way. He's the one who always protected me, made me feel like if I had him, I wouldn't need anyone else around. He's the one who fixed everything for me before I even had to ask, hugged me when I was scared, covered for me when I was in trouble. If he'd been a horrible brother, maybe I wouldn't be so attached to him. So really, this is entirely his fault, and not just because he's dating my best friend. He's being selfish.

Maybe it's in our genes. My conversations with my birth mother have shed some light on the past. Things that I didn't remember are coming back to me. She was always looking for her next hit, her next score. She was always begging for money from anyone she could. She was always doing things that were cries for attention, cries for help. She has a flair for the dramatic and now I know where I get it. She was selfish when we were young. She was selfish when she abandoned us to run off with some guy she barely knew. She's been selfish the whole time that she re-entered my life. I already gave her hundreds of dollars and now she wants me to steal from the moms to give her more? I already stole from Jesus. I can't do that again. Maybe selfish behavior is passed from generation to generation. Maybe it's her fault I am the way I am.

With all this being said, I know that I made a mistake when I told the Riveras about Lexi and Jesus having sex. I know it's because I was drunk and I obviously haven't learned to handle my liquor. I shouldn't have been drinking in the first place. I don't like beer or liquor. It tastes disgusting, but I was just so mad at Jesus, Lexi and myself, that I just wanted to stop feeling angry. But telling the Riveras was unnecessary. And I know that I have ruined Lexi's life. I didn't need Jesus to yell that to me to understand that. I saw her face. I saw her parents' face. I even saw my own parents' face. I knew as soon as I blurted it out that it was a huge mistake that I couldn't take back, so I decided to stand by it. When everyone told me how stupid I was for doing that, how selfish it was of me, I stood by my actions because it's not like an apology would help.

I never imagined what would happen though. I never thought Lexi would be sent away. I never imagined that her parents would react so badly that they would think the only way to solve this problem was to send Lexi out of this state. As soon as Jesus told me, I knew I had to fix this. I had to fix this for Lexi because even though she had betrayed me, I had betrayed her by spilling her secrets. So I went to her door while her parents were at work. She didn't want to talk with me. She stood in her doorway and stared at me, arms crossed, eyes glaring. She wanted to slam the door in my face, I know, but a part of her wanted to hear what I had to say. I told her quickly that I knew that she could hide somewhere until it was too late for her to catch her plane. I explained that Wyatt's house was abandoned, no one would be there and no one would think to look for her there. That wasn't a normal hang out place. Lexi wasn't friends with Wyatt. So they wouldn't look for her if they looked for her. Lexi's arms slowly uncrossed the farther into the plan I got and I knew I would be able to help her. And in helping her, maybe she would forgive me without an apology. I was sorry for what happened, but she should be sorry for going behind my back. Maybe we could run away and neither one of us would apologize, but we could just move on in the way some people can, without rehashing what has happened, but just moving forward.

When the Riveras came, I wasn't surprised. But everyone believed me when I said Lexi wasn't talking to me. No one really thought I would know where she was. Even Jesus didn't expect it. Everyone assumed that what I had done had put Lexi's and my friendship in such a position that it would never recover. They didn't understand lifelong friendships. We may have moments that we think we'll never speak to one another again, but it never lasts long. Hanging out with her all afternoon showed that we were already moving past it. She'd run away; I had helped her; we were okay. We didn't dwell on what had been done. We just moved straight past it like it hadn't happened and acted like two normal 15-year-old girls, not a selfish girl with abandonment issues and a runaway.

When he came to talk with me on the porch, to tell me that Lexi was undocumented, I realized that I had made an even larger mistake. Wonderful. Every time I try to fix something, I just make things worse. Maybe that was genetic too. I had no idea that Lexi was illegal. I don't think Lexi knew. So this would be more information that would be released into the ethos, more secrets and lies that were told that would change the course of Lexi's family. I would be the one to deliver more of this news. I don't think the Riveras will ever speak to me again, Lexi included. But Jesus was right; we needed to tell Lexi the truth.

When I told Jesus that I knew where she was, I don't think I've seen him more surprised. The relief was also evident on his face. He was obviously worried about her. He must actually love her. I felt that twinge of bitterness inside of my heart, but I pushed it aside to lead Jesus to the house that I had hidden Lexi. She was surprised to see me, since I was right there. I saw her relax instantly when she realized it was just I. When she saw Jesus, her entire body lit up. She hugged him and they held each other like they were the only two people in the world. I remember when Jesus' hug made me feel like that, in a non-romantic way, of course. There was that twinge of jealousy again. Now it was time for us to deliver the bad news and I didn't know how to begin. We shared the information and Lexi's face showed confusion as she realized that much of her life was a lie. She had an identity and hearing this changed the way she looked at herself and her parents. I imagine her parents had never lied to her before that she was aware of and now she had no idea how to move forward. She wasn't used to parents that lied, like Jesus and I had growing up with our birth moms. We may have been little when we were left, but that doesn't mean we don't remember things. She didn't know her parents had been just as selfish as mine had been, as selfish as I was. I watched as Lexi processed and a new plan formed in her mind. "Take me home." And we did.

I got to see Lexi's selfish side when we got back to the house. We walked in the door and you could see the stress disappear on the Riveras' faces, our moms' faces. Her parents, hugging and admonishing her, surrounded Lexi. Before I knew what happened, Lexi was blackmailing her parents. Actually blackmailing them. Like turning them into immigration would be a solution to being separated from Jesus. Texas is a lot closer than Central America. Threatening her parents' livelihood, while it worked, was one of the most selfish things I had ever seen Lexi do. That included secretly dating Jesus and not defending me when he badmouthed me. How do you blackmail your own parents, even when you don't like what they are doing? And everyone thinks I'm the selfish one? I know Lexi feels betrayed by her parents, now, not just me, but I think that might be going too far. That's coming from the girl who stole her brother's pills to sell them to give to her birth mother and then let her brother take the fall.

The most important thing that happened today was that I think things will be okay. Lexi and I were obviously going to be all right. But what I really cared about was Jesus. He spoke to me today with yelling or anger after Lexi left. We joked about Lexi being wild (putting it mildly) and we sat next to one another and didn't kill one another. He seemed happy that while I couldn't say anything about him dating Lexi, I had accepted it. I think helping her run away absolved my previous behavior in Jesus' eyes. We spent more time on the porch, sitting on the porch swing, looking at the tree house the three of us had spent so much time in together. We sat next to one another as we smiled and laughed lightly. We met eyes and all was forgiven. He was still impulsive Jesus and I was still selfish Mariana. I leaned my head on his shoulder and Jesus laid his head on top of mine. He squeezed my hand without speaking and the love that we had as twins spread between us. I was glad that we would be charging forward with our lives.

I left Jesus and went on to my bedroom again. Callie was already asleep, or at least faking it. I slipped into my pajamas and got into bed. I sighed as I pulled the blankets over me and thought. Things were all right now. Lexi and I were okay. Jesus and I were okay. Things could go back to normal.

I know everyone thinks I'm selfish. But in the end, isn't everyone?


	7. Impulsivity

Title: Musings

Author: SassyAngel

Rating: T

Disclaimer: ABC Family owns The Fosters.

Summary: Last chapter. Jesus' musings on the last few days. I was thinking this would be the last one, but I'm considering maybe doing one from Wyatt and Lexi's point of view. I'm not sure.

**Musings**

**Impulsivity**

I'm impulsive. I won't deny it. Everyone around me knows that I'm impulsive. I'm driven by urges, give little thought to consequences, and act instantaneously. I'm the kid with ADD. Everyone acts like it's a bad thing to be impulsive. Silly Jesus has done something crazy again. Foolish Jesus made a mistake, time to fix it. But sometimes, being impulsive works. Sometimes being impulsive brings about the best events of your life. Sometimes being impulsive brings about the worst events of your life. But if you live life always being cautious, it's like you've never lived it at all.

I know it's not always good to be impulsive. When Lexi told me that we could go ahead, I should have stopped and made sure we were protected. I should have stopped to make sure that this was what she wanted truly, had a little talk with her about what could happen if we had sex, and that if she was ready for this to happen, we would do it with condoms. Instead, my urges took over and I moved forward enthusiastically without a second thought. When Lexi brought up that she was afraid of being pregnant, because we were foolish enough to have unprotected sex, I acted on impulse again and found a way to get her the Plan B pill. If she was worried about pregnancy, then I would fix it. I didn't think about how it was wrong to ask someone else to buy emergency contraceptive for us. When Mom caught me, I knew that once again I had acted without thought of the consequences. I was on a mission and hadn't thought about what could go wrong. Mom definitely made me think about what could go wrong. When she took me home and made me tell Mama, I once again was told how foolish my actions were, but the problem is never understanding that I've made a mistake, it's stopping myself from making those decisions.

I know where I got it. It's not just my ADD's fault, though it does play a part in it. My birth mother was impulsive. She's the one who abandoned us on a whim to go off with some guy. She was the woman who survived on impulse, looking for the next high, the next person who would fill the hole inside of her for a few minutes, the next way to get what she wanted with little thought to the consequences that would fall on her or her young twins. I learned to be impulsive was the only way to get what I want, with her and with our foster parents. If I didn't do things to get their attention, I would never get what I wanted. No one would have ever even noticed me if I wasn't relying on my urges to get me through the day. It's survival instinct and learned behavior at it's best. Or worst.

I guess I was impulsive when I went to see Lexi's dad, but I did it because of what I wanted to happen. I wanted Lexi's dad to see that while we may have not acted with the most sense in having sex, we were sorry that our actions hurt so many others, including ourselves. I realized that our way of doing this was incorrect, and I regretted that. I didn't think it would make it worse to talk to her dad. I thought he might think it was brave that I was willing to face him for his daughter. He didn't.

I'm not always impulsive though. People never notice or understand those times. They're too busy dealing with the fallout of other people's thoughtless behavior, but that's not the focal point like it is when I do something wrong. When I make a mistake, the world is over. When others do, it seems like it's no big deal because after all, it's so out of character for them.

I wasn't impulsive in choosing to date Lexi. I thought of the consequences for once in my life. I could figure out what Mariana would think if we started dating and I could imagine how she would react if we kept it a secret. I allowed Lexi to talk me into waiting to tell her and that came back to bite me. I should have known that Mariana would find out. How could we keep anything a secret longer than six hours? We're close, the three of us, and it's not surprising that Mariana figured it out. But I had tried not to be impulsive. I tried to weigh the consequences of our actions, and I decided that eventually Mariana would accept us if we would just tell her. It was Lexi that was impulsive in choosing to keep it a secret. She was the one following her urges and not letting anything else matter.

I wasn't impulsive with Lexi running away. That was all Mariana. Mariana has had few too many impulsive moments lately: seeing our birth mom, selling my pills, getting drunk, telling the Riveras, helping Lexi run away. I'm a bit sick of Mariana's impulsive behavior. They didn't come to me to tell me what the plan was. The first I heard of Lexi vanishing was when the Riveras showed up on the doorstep. I had no idea what was happening and I was worried sick for Lexi. What if she got hurt? What if I never saw her again because of what had happened? What if this just made them send her farther away? I was not the impulsive one in this situation. Lexi and Mariana were. I don't know why everyone thinks I'm the only impulsive one in this family.

I wasn't the impulsive one when the Riveras decided to come to this country illegally. I wasn't responsible for their decisions that affected them and their daughter, their livelihood and ability to stay safely in this country. They were the ones that put their whole lives on the line by living in the United States illegally. I know they have good reasons for doing it; I'm sure that they weren't safe or in a good situation in Central America, but those choices are not my fault. I'm not judging them, I just wish other people would see I am not the only impulsive one.

I wasn't the impulsive one when Lexi came home and blackmailed her parents into letting her stay here. Actually, I was the logical one in that situation. As soon as I heard her family was illegal, I knew that I had to find her before her parents went to the police. If they went to the police, they could get deported, no matter what Mom said. When I told Mariana the news, I was not being impulsive. I was being responsible. I thought Mariana might have some ideas of where to look that I didn't know about. Turns out, I was right. Mariana knew exactly where Lexi was and I never would have searched Wyatt's foreclosed house for her. When we told Lexi, I was doing it to be honest. She needed this information. I knew it would change the whole way she looked at her identify, the life she had. I would be there to help with the fallout of that knowledge. She had to know, though, because she wouldn't just come back without a reason. She would come back to protect her parents. At least that's what I thought. Now that I had this information, I couldn't keep it a secret. I saw how secrets hurt our family. I never imagined that my loving, kind, sweet, funny Lexi would turn around and threaten to deport herself and her parents if they sent her away. Talk about impulsive. That was not thinking of the consequences. That threat could backfire. The likelihood that Lexi really would turn them in was not large. If she didn't want to get sent away, why would she set it up to be deported? But her trying to get away with it was impulsive.

I found Mariana on the porch after we had made up. Another time I wasn't being impulsive. I sat next to her and squeezed her hand. I didn't like the way Mariana acted with the impulsive, selfish, spoiled behavior that she exhibited almost as often as I exhibited the thoughtless, urge-driven behavior. But she was Mariana. She was my twin, my other half. Being furious with her hurt me almost as much as it hurt her. I'm not used to feeling angry. I spend most of my life going from one thought to the next, without much time to dwell. I go from event to event, crisis to crisis without the desire to consider. The way I felt after Mariana betrayed me was unfamiliar. I didn't like having to stew on something. I prefer my method of thoughtlessness, even if it irritates everyone else. So now that we were all right, it felt more than right to sit on the porch, holding hands, her head on my shoulder, my head atop her head. It's always been me and Mariana and that will never change.

For some reason, everyone thinks I'm the impulsive one. I'm not the only one around here that's impulsive. And even if I were, I don't think that's such a bad thing. What's wrong with acting on what you want? No one else is going to get it for you. Might as well do it yourself.


	8. Broken

Title: Musings

Author: SassyAngel

Rating: T

Disclaimer: I don't own The Fosters. ABC Family does.

Summary: Here's Wyatt's considerations and I will do Lexi's as well.

**Musings**

**Broken**

As a child, I liked to build things, mess around with things until I turned them into something else or fixed them into working order. It was something to do. I liked to take them apart, see how they worked, and then see what I could do to change that. I found it fascinating to see what I could do, what I could create. I'm not the first child to like to tinker with objects, but it definitely set me aside from some of the other kids. I would be the one sketching things from my imagination, sketching out broken things and parts of objects, and figuring out how I could make them work again. It didn't exactly make me an outcast, but other kids mostly left me alone. I wasn't interested in making tons of friends and they weren't interested in interrupting me.

As I got older, I realized that I missed having people notice me. I started to resent being the quiet kid in the back living in his own world. My parents were fighting all the time, usually about money and mortgages, and I kind of faded into the background. My classmates tolerated me, but they didn't include me and I didn't really know how to make friends. I started being a bit of a class clown mixed in with a malcontent. That got me attention from everyone. I could make people laugh, I could irritate the people in authority, and I was noticed. I didn't stop tinkering, but now I was tinkering with how I could make people work for me, react in the way I wanted them too. I know it sounds a bit manipulative and in reality, it was. But I was broken and the world around me was broken, so I wanted to fix everything to be just as I wanted it.

But sometimes, it doesn't work.

Callie's broken. I could tell from the minute she sat in Timothy's class. She had this look in her eye, this mysterious, troublesome and sad glint in her eyes. She fascinated me. I wanted to figure out how she worked, what made her broken and what I could do to change those parts. It wasn't easy to get her to talk to me, but I never give up when I'm trying to figure out how someone works. Callie was the most interesting because she didn't seem to work the same way other teenagers do. She wasn't trying to be the center of attention, if anything, she tried to make herself disappear. She was hard and smart, beautiful and angry. She was my counterpart. She had this keen sense that she knew exactly how the world worked and she was waiting for everyone else to figure that out.

When she smiles, it makes me feel like I've won. She so rarely smiles, but when I do what I do, and make her laugh, I know that I'm getting to her. She notices me now. I've never wanted to make anyone notice me more than I want her to notice me. I want her to rely on me, need me, so she won't suddenly forget that I'm alive like everyone else in my life has. My family certainly forgot that I exist, especially once we lost the house. I don't think my family will be staying together much longer, and I highly doubt either one of my parents will want me. So I really need Callie to need me.

Callie tried to fix me. The night of my party, she had hugged me, rocked me like I was a little boy, while I cried over the loss of my childhood home. I realized how stupid it was to cry over a place, but it wasn't just the house, it was everything. I knew that as soon as we lost the house, that the rest of my childhood was gone. My parents were going to be gone, my house was destroyed, and my life was going to change vastly. I was on my own now and I knew it. But Callie wanted me to feel like that wasn't true. Callie wanted me to think of the house as an object only, not a symbol of my life, and that everything else would be fine. She wanted to fix my fears and my worries and make me better. I can't think of a time I've had someone that wants to help me. I know a lot of people, and a lot of people will hang out with me if I entertain them, but not a single one of them cares.

I'm worried about her. I knew she was broken when I met her. It seemed like we were mirror images of one another, full of pain and busy trying to prove that we didn't feel it. But after seeing that jerk Liam at the party, I started to realize that maybe she had more baggage than I thought. I saw his response to her photograph of the sun setting on the tree, and it honestly seemed like a threat. He sounded like a stalker, warning her that he was on the prowl. When I saw that she had made her profile private, I knew she thought the same thing. But she refused to talk about it. She just shut me down, made some jokes and wandered away. I saw at that moment that there was a crack in her that I didn't know how to fix, a crack she wouldn't let me fix. I didn't understand how she worked, how I could make that better. I had the feeling that making her laugh wasn't going to do it.

I've never felt more furious when I saw Liam with his hands on her again. She was struggling to get away and he was yelling at her. I ran for him, tackled him and began taking all my frustrations out on him. After all Callie had done for me, trying to fix me, he was there abusing her in front of me. It felt good to punch him bloody, to make him regret his decision to come after Callie when she'd done nothing to him. I didn't believe for a second that Callie had ever done anything that would deserve an abusive stalker. I wished I could have hurt him more, but Brandon was there, grabbing me off of him, leaving Liam open to grab Callie again. She was screaming at him and crying a little, pushing him away from her. He got in his car and squealed away and Brandon finally let me go.

I yelled after him and when I turned to face Callie, I didn't expect her to turn on me. Even though I have dreaded the day she would turn on me, I didn't think that today, the day I protected her, would be the day she turned on me. She was yelling at me now, to leave it alone, that it wasn't worth it. I saw Brandon out of the corner of my eye, worrying over Callie and I felt her pull away from me into this place that no one could reach her. I couldn't believe she would turn on me like this. All I've done is try to help her, repair her cracks, put her back together into working order. I thought that if I could fix her, I could fix myself. Obviously, I've been delusional. I stormed away from her, telling her that if she wanted me to leave it alone, I would leave it all be. I watched her face, to see if she would look hurt, to see if she would try to backtrack on what she said. She didn't. Her stare was blank and I walked away from her.

I saw her leave with Brandon. She would tell him. He would be the one to fix her, even if I didn't want him to be.

I knew this would happen. I had been waiting for her to realize I wasn't worth it. Everyone else usually realizes it. It just took her longer. I had hoped it would last, that maybe I could prove my usefulness to her and she wouldn't want to leave me behind. I thought maybe since I understood her, knew how she worked, I would be able to change her. I would be able to make her happy instead of broken. And in making her happy, I would fix myself as well.

But sometimes things are just too broken to be fixed. I just don't know which one of us is unfixable.


	9. Betrayal

Title: Musings

Author: SassyAngel

Rating: T

Disclaimer: I don't own the Fosters, ABC Family does

Summary: Here's Lexi's chapter.

**Musings**

**Betrayal**

Betrayal is an interesting concept. When you are the one doing the betraying, it doesn't seem half as bad as when you are the one being betrayed. This betrayal started out with me keeping everything a secret, not telling Mariana that I was crazy about her brother. Mariana always acted like it was some insane idea that anyone would think Jesus was date-worthy, and someone like her best friend certainly had better taste than Jesus. It's strange to me that Mariana can think so much of her brother, love him and depend on him so much; yet act like the idea of someone having a crush on him would be such a foreign concept. So when Jesus kissed me, I kept it a secret. I wanted to tell. I wanted everyone to know, but somehow the idea of seeing Mariana's face when I told her stopped me. I kept making excuses as to why I wasn't going to tell her, why what I was doing was to protect her happiness, not just me being a coward. I didn't see it as a betrayal to our friendship. I saw it as preserving our friendship.

Jesus wanted to tell her right away. For such an impulsive person, he's actually fairly perceptive. I guess he could see where this was a betrayal of Mariana's trust, our secret relationship of meeting in bathrooms to make out and giving each other furtive glances that spoke volumes if anyone was paying attention. Mariana never paid attention, she was so wrapped up in her own thoughts, that she would never see that Jesus and I were closer than just her best friend and her twin brother. Jesus was proud of us as well. He wanted to tell everyone, but he let me talk him out of it. We just had to wait until after the Quinceanera. I'm pretty sure I would have found another reason to hide our relationship. It wasn't that I was ashamed; it was just that I was afraid. Afraid to hurt Mariana and have this turn out to be nothing. I refused to see this as betrayal.

When she found out, how did Mariana feel? Betrayed. I tried to explain, tried to make her feel better, but she wouldn't hear it. She didn't want to speak to me. She was outraged. I thought it was kind of ridiculous that she would be so angry with me dating her brother. Who doesn't want their best friend and brother to hook up? And she wondered why we didn't tell her? She should look in the mirror and check her reaction. Then maybe she would see why we kept it a secret. But she said what hurt her most was that I didn't stand up for her and I understood why she felt betrayed. Jesus is allowed to say those things because he's her brother, but as her best friend, I am supposed to be her champion. I kept my mouth shut while he vented and she knew about it. So maybe she wasn't just overreacting about my dating Jesus. Maybe it was deeper than that. I tried to apologize for the betrayal she felt, but she wouldn't have it.

Jesus and I finally had what we wanted. We could be together in public. Of course, we had both lost Mariana in the process and I think in the back of our minds we wondered if it was worth it. When we spoke about it, we were always trying to convince ourselves that she would get over it eventually, that Mariana was just selfish and self-absorbed. Sometimes I wondered if we were the ones being selfish and self-absorbed, but then we would kiss and I would forget.

I don't like being on the other end of betrayal. There is no amount of convincing that things would be all right when other people betray you. I could justify my actions that betrayed Mariana over and over again, but the minute she told my parents, no matter how drunk she was, there was no justifying her behavior. She destroyed my life with a simple sentence and I felt everything crumble around me. My parents' face fell apart and I was being dragged out of the house and before I knew it, I was being pulled out of Anchor Beach Charter and being sent to a boarding school in Texas. Mariana had ruined my life. All of this happened because of a betrayal, hers and mine.

My parents couldn't look at me; they wouldn't even talk to me. They talked to each other in low tones and I knew they were questioning what to do with me, what they had done wrong in raising me, their feelings of betrayal at my behavior going against everything they had believed in and raised me to believe. There was no justifying my actions to them. They didn't want to hear that Jesus loved me. They didn't want to hear that we had discussed it and had decided that we had moved to fast and that we shouldn't continue having sex right now. They didn't want to hear that we learned from our mistakes and we were making wiser, more mature decisions. All they heard was our impulsive choice and they felt the betrayal of what they had tried to teach me my whole life. This was something they never should have had to know. There was a reason I kept it from them. I didn't want them to over-react and I didn't want them to feel like they had failed as a parent just because I had made a choice that they wouldn't agree with. But Mariana had made sure that didn't happen.

When my parents told me that I was being shipped off, I felt betrayed by them. How could they react in such a way that sending me thousands of miles away was a better option than keeping me at home? I mean, ground me, sure. Maybe stop me from seeing Jesus for a while. But shipping me off? I guess I disappointed them so much that sending me to a place they wouldn't have to see me anymore was the only option in their mind. Then they wouldn't have to feel that disappointment every time I entered a room. I had betrayed them, so now they would betray me.

I knew I had to leave. I knew there was no way I could let them send me to Texas, a place where I knew no one and knew nothing about. When Mariana showed up at the doorstep, I could see that she was sorry. I could see the best friend that I used to have, the one who loved me and stood by me, the one who came up with grand plans and kept me entertained and happy. She apologized and I hugged her and all was forgiven. I guess that's the things about best friends. When you've been friends as long as we have, it's easy to forgive. We've been together half of our lives already. How could I not forgive her? Was I still a little angry? Yes, but I forgave her. And she forgave me; obviously, since she told me how stupid she knew she was for acting the way she did when Jesus and I were dating. We talked about our hurts, how it hurt her that I had kept things from her and I spoke about how it hurt me that she was so down on me and Jesus and that she had told my parents my secret. She told me she had come up with a plan since she had heard I was being sent to boarding school and I knew it was perfect.

Sitting in Wyatt's old house, I had a lot of time to think. To think about what had happened, to think about the choices I had made in my life. I have so many things already that I would have done differently, but I couldn't live my life in regret. I would change things, but in the end, it would all work out the way it was supposed to. My parents are always telling me that God has a plan for our lives and that things always turned out like it was planned. Sometimes I hated the feeling that I have no control over my life, but other times, it was comforting to know that when things seemed bad, it wasn't in my control and that someone bigger was looking out for me. Mariana came to check on me and give me an update on the outside world. We played at modeling like we had done so many times before and talked about boys and life, and it was like nothing had changed between us. See? Already, a bigger plan in motion. Mariana would still be mad at me if she hadn't blurted out my secrets to my parents. She would still be furious and not talking with me. A slightly silver lining in a dark cloud. It was funny how sitting in this half destroyed house made me feel like things were shifting and that things would be all right.

I didn't know how the next betrayal would happen. I didn't know just how badly my parents have betrayed me. I never had any idea I was illegal or that they were. I've never had that fear that so many have that our life would come crashing down and we be shipped to a situation far worse than what we were living in. Now I would have to spend my life looking over my shoulder, worrying when I saw police cars or other people looking at me oddly like I don't belong in this country. I can't walk confidently down the street knowing that I belong here. I won't be able to say I'm an American anymore because I'm not. I never was. I'm a secret hidden in a country full of them - a secret that's always worrying it's going to come out. I can't believe my parents betrayed me by keeping this hidden. I'm sure they thought they were protecting me, but don't they know that my identity is something that never was, and that by not knowing about that, now I don't know who I am. Everything I thought I knew about my parents and myself is wrong. My parents, who seem so holy and so above it all, broke the law and continue to do so. They should have told me. I can't believe it. They act like my disappointing them was the end of the world. How about the way they disappointed me? I'm sure they thought they were doing it for my own good. I'm sure the situation back in the home country was bad if they chose to go about coming to the USA the way they did. But it doesn't matter. They've betrayed me.

I know I should feel bad about blackmailing them. The kitchen was silent when I told them what I would do if they tried to send me to boarding school now that I know what I know. The Fosters' faces were dismayed and my parents were shocked that I would even suggest such a thing. They don't understand that what I've done doesn't matter. What they've done is so much worse. Blackmail is the least of their problems. I know they are questioning what happened to their sweet little girl, the one who admired them and followed their instructions without question. I know they were questioning their skills as parents once again, but lying to your child about something so fundamental about themselves and their family is pretty crappy parenting. And if they really thought about it, they would have known I was bluffing. I didn't want them to ship me away from Jesus, from Mariana. If I reported us to immigration, that would happen. But they didn't. They were too busy being upset and dismayed to consider that. Lucky for me. I'm staying.

My parents look at me, now, wondering how I could have betrayed them so, taking things to such an extreme. They wonder how I could have changed from such a loving, kind person to a bitter, selfish, angry girl. They wonder how they can stop the changes; help me go back to being the innocent I used to be. They wonder how I can return to the person I used to be, not this selfish person I am now. Sometimes I look in the mirror and wonder the same thing. Betrayal is an interesting thing. The worst occurrence of betrayal is when you've betrayed yourself.


End file.
